


Ready for More

by justblaze



Category: Black Panther - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Black Author, F/F, Horny Valkyrie, Mentions of Nakia/T'Challa, Mentions of Thor/Valkyrie, Polyamory, Problematic Valkyrie, Scaring racist white dudes, Sex Toys, Squirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 10:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justblaze/pseuds/justblaze
Summary: Valkyrie enjoyed life on Midgard, she thought. It was all very strange and their liquor is painfully inadequate on her Asgardian system. But she was alive and that was alright, she supposed. Thanos was vanquished and there was nothing much left to do but drink, explore, and maybe discover the joys Wakandan sex toys. Does the Allspeak work for picking up ladies in Wakandan?---Valkyrie settles in to Midgard, figures out that she’s black and then learns that black women are everything. A little Nakia/Valkyrie action, inspired in part by this fucking hilarious sex toy review that was going around Black twitter. Can you imagine Wakandan sex toys? Are you imagining it now? I sure am.gifLet me know if I need to add tags!





	Ready for More

The first thing Valkyrie noticed about Midgard was that its people were very, very young. The ones that looked most like her were about 30 years old. They were babies, and yet also in some ways, very adult. They looked and felt like her peers until she suddenly remembered that she was the contemporary of their long forgotten ancestors. It was a strange sort of awareness that moved in and out of her conversations with them. She was trying to learn to fit in, but every now and then she would reference something that happened when hundreds of years ago and the mortals would laugh as if she was making the greatest of jokes. She came to learn that this type of exaggeration is a way of emphasizing a point and that she had not, in fact, found a peer in the young woman who complained that she’d been working on something for hundreds of years.

The second thing Valkyrie noticed about Midgard was the intense way that these mortals focused on characteristics like gender, body shape, and skin color. In Asgard, the most important divisions were among the beings of the nine realms. In truth, Valkyrie had always quite liked the color of her skin. While she had faintly noticed that there was no one on Asgard with skin that quite matched hers, it held no particular significance. Skin color on Midgard, she was learning, was one of the main characteristic by which people grouped themselves and judged others. She was disturbed to see that people with the deepest of brown skins were treated like the lowest of beings and that people with her skin tone fared only slightly better. What difference could their skin color possibly make to justify this treatment? They were all Midgardians. Why would they fuss over these small distinctions?

Midgardians were so very strange and seemed to have little interest in self-preservation. Walking around New York City, Valkyrie had nearly murdered a man who yelled out at her before Thor intervened. 

“Looking good, lady,” Valkyrie heard distantly as she walked next to Thor. She was mostly focused on walking in the clothes Thor had procured for her. He encouraged her to try them on as a way to practicing fitting in among the people of Midgard. She was trying to walk normally, but the clothes were at once much too tight and far too loose. How could people possibly be prepared for battle in such ill fighting garments?

“Hey bitch. Fine, go ahead and ignore me you stuck up bitch,” said a male voice, much louder this time. Valkyrie didn’t quite know the meaning of “bitch,” but she you don’t travel among realms without being able to recognize an insult when it is hurled at you. She whirled around and took a menacing step forward, looking for her challenger. What she found was a man, of average height with a skin tone similar to Loki’s and floppy brown hair. He was wearing gray pants with some eerily smooth looking fabric and a puffy white shirt with buttons in the middle. His shiny leather shoes looked like they would barely stand up to a light jog, much less a fight. 

“You dare challenge me, mortal?” Valkyrie asked flatly, amused and puzzled. She looked him up and down, calculating how she could dispatch him most quickly and with minimal damage to her new clothing when Thor stepped forward, holding an arm out in front of her and facing the man directly.

“Please, my good sir, walk away,” Thor pleaded in a deliberately even tone. “We will let you live and we only hope that you remember to treat women with more respect. My dear friend Jane has explained to me all about this cat-calling business and it is the lowest of the low. Step back now and be thankful that we are letting you leave with your limbs intact.”

“All of his limbs, you say? Are you sure he can’t spare one or two?” Valkyrie asked Thor pleasantly as she continued thinking it over. She could probably break his neck fairly easily. Minimal blood, a quick death. More mercy than he deserves, but a tidy way to dispatch him without disrupting her day. Why were mortals so eager to risk it all? It was one thing to lose an eye in a battle for the very survival for your people, as Thor had, but another to randomly challenge a warrior in the street. 

“Whatever, you Black bitch. Let your white boyfriend do your fighting for you, see what I care. You’re not worth it anyway,” the curious little man yelled, puffing out his chest while simultaneously taking shifting steps backwards. She saw traces of fear on his face, although he was trying to make what she was sure was meant to be a menacing expression.

Thor stepped fully in front of her now, holding both hands out in a reassuring gesture she’d seen him use on Hulk once or twice. 

“Hey hey, easy now. We don’t kill Midgardians if we can help it, even if they deserve it. Jane and my fellow Avengers have stressed to me that it is of the utmost importance. Let him live, I beg you, if only to avoid having to answer questions from the Avengers or the local guard,” Thor pleaded, again in the soothing tone she’d only heard used on Banner or Hulk.

“Let him live?” Valkyrie asked, pulling a knife out of the leg holster she’d slipped on over her strange new Midgardian pants.

“Yes! It’s very important! Loki killed hundreds of Midgardians when we first came to this planet and I just barely saved him from execution. Let’s keep walking, he’s not important.”

Valkyrie sighed and reholstered her knife. Fine, then. She shook her shoulders out and stretched her neck, irritated at getting prepared for a fight and then having to walk away. She rolled her eyes and walked over to the man who kept shifting away, but hadn’t stopped trying to appear tough. Why didn’t he run? So foolish. She caught up to him and grabbed his face in one hand. 

“Never, ever speak to me or anyone else that way again. Do you understand?” She felt him trying to nod, even as her fingers kept a tight grip on the sides of his face that stilted the movement. 

“Okay then,” she said, releasing him. She watched him turn around, finally getting ready to run as he should have done minutes ago and gave him a good hard shove with her still outstretched hand. He flew several feet forward before landing, looking back with terror in his eyes, and then stumbling up to start outright running.

“Ha!” she turned to Thor. “You were right, that was fun enough. Midgardian men really have no sense, do they?”

“No, sadly not,” Thor replied. 

“I think I’ll like Midgard. I don’t understand all of their customs, but that will come in time,”  
Valkyrie said, mood lightened by the sport of scaring the silly little man. 

\---

Valkyrie continued to be puzzled by the insistence on arranging people by skin color. She found that she quite liked the way that other brown-skinned people viewed her as a part of the community. Although skin color carried no particular significance in Asgard, she was becoming increasingly aware of the vast nuances between shades of brown. None fascinated her so much as Nakia, though. Nakia had the most perfect skin she’d ever seen. The browns of her skin shimmered in the sun, calling to mind Odin’s golden halls in the Asgardian palace. And yet there was a depth to the color that pulled one forward, invited a closer inspection.

Valkyrie was not quite sure what the protocol for making sexual advances was on Midgard, but she had found her moves to be quite proficient in any realm. After the battle with Thanos, Valkyrie saw an opening. 

Valkyrie was drunk. Well, she was always a little drunk, but she got especially drunk that night. They’d faced a truly frightening enemy and prevailed, worse for wear, but mostly alive. After leaving the men to their drunken sorrows and sloppy reunions, she wandered over to the Dora Milaje, who were singing and rejoicing in being reconnected with one another. She sat and watched and nodded back as they acknowledged her without stopping their singing. They all moved beautifully. It reminded her of the Valkyrie. Before it became her name, it used to be the name of her people. Her sisters, her fellow warriors. Her lover. _Fuck,_ she thought as she took another drink. 

She’d slept with Thor a few times. How he loved to be held down, dominated. Penetrated. She quite enjoyed it, but she found her mind wandering to soft skin and pert breasts. Her eyes drifted back to Nakia. Her hair in tight knots on top of her head. The red and gold of her armor. Her skin looked so smooth, Valkyrie always wanted to reach out and touch it. To kiss it. To see if it felt as soft as it looked. To trace the swooping pathway from Nakia’s slim waist to her enticing arse. To part those strong thighs and explore what lies between. 

Just as she was getting lost in the thought, she noticed Nakia looking back at her with a glint in her eye. Looked like her moves did work across the realms, Valkyrie thought smugly. She stood up and walked closer to Nakia.

“Hey,” Valkyrie said. Her smile grew wider and wider as she made no attempts to hide the fact that she was looking at Nakia with unbridled interest. She knew she was unsteady on her feet from drink, but that had never stopped her before and frankly, the effects would wear off sooner than she ever liked. 

“Hey,” replied Nakia. She looked deeply into Valkyrie’s eyes for just a moment before looking away with a soft smile on her face.

“You fought well,” Valkyrie said.

“So did you,” Nakia replied. “I am so happy to have my family back, but,” she said, looking back at the Dora Milaje, drinking, dancing and laughing. “I think I could sleep for a week.”

“So,” said Valkyrie, stepping yet closer. “Shall you retire for the night soon?” 

To punctuate the question, Valkyrie touched a single finger to the back of Nakia’s hand, finally giving in to the desire to touch that beautiful brown skin. It was just as soft as she had suspected.

“I think I just might,” Nakia replied. “One needs to recoup their energy after a fight such as this one.” 

“Agreed,” Valkyrie replied starting to move her hand up Nakia’s hand, to her wrist, her lovely forearms and those strong biceps. 

Nakia sighed, leaning forward. Her breath seemed to stutter slightly, growing uneven.

“Perhaps you’d like some company? A fellow warrior, even?” Valkyrie asked, not triyng in the least to be subtle, but enjoying the playfulness of their exchange.

“I think that would be wise. Shall we then?” Nakia asked, her voice higher than Vakyrie had ever heard before, with a softness to it that was entirely new.

“Lead the way,” Valkyrie replied, laughing lightly and noticing that she was sounding quite affected as well. She was incredibly pleased that Nakia seemed equally enthusiastic and she felt quite certain that the meaning of this venture was clear to both of them.

Nakia led Valkyrie to a room underground. Valkyrie honestly wasn’t even sure how they’d found lodging, but she supposed that there was always someone working out logistics. Stark had some kind of body-less assistant, she believed? She wasn’t quite sure of the details. The room was bare, but had a respectably sized mattress set on the floor. That would do.

“This will do,” Valkyrie said aloud. She wanted to be polite and make sure she and Nakia were well matched in their interests for the night, but she found that she desperately needed to remove her armor. Nakia would understand that, a warrior herself. She began removing the hard pieces of her armor, feeling an unusual flash of shyness and uncertainty. 

After removing the outer armor, Valkyrie was down to the soft and tight-fitting garments that she wore underneath. She raised an eyebrow in question at Nakia, who was simply watching her with rapt interest. Nakia nodded, and began undoing her own armor. A part of Valkyrie wanted to get all the way undressed and to prompt Nakia to do the same. But she so loved helping women to remove their clothing, unwrapping the best present and enjoying the gift that lay beneath. Once Nakia’s armor was removed, she stepped forward. She reached out her hands to either side of Nakia’s firm waist with the lightest touch and asked, “Yes?”

“Oh, yes.” Nakia replied leaning forward. Valkyrie began to move her hands, feeling Nakia’s soft underclothing, moving out to those strong arms she’d been eyeing since they’d met. She slid her hands from Nakia’s shoulders, over her biceps and all the way down to Nakia’s hands, which Valkyrie pulled to her own lips. She began pressing soft kisses along each knuckle. Nakia moaned and leaned down, intercepting the final kiss and pressing her full lips to Valkyrie’s. The kiss was firm, but gentle. A test and an invitation. _I accept,_ thought Valkyrie, mouth too busy to say it aloud. _I’d follow her anywhere,_ another thought popped up. _God, I’m a sentimental and horny drunk._ Valkyrie would roll her eyes at her own thoughts if she wasn’t otherwise occupied.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Nakia began, as they exchanged deeper kisses and as their hands began making exploratory ventures over breasts, touching ever so lightly and over then a firming grasp as she moved over Nakia's hips. They were touching everywhere they could reach, still wearing their soft battle garments. “I truly am tired.” Nakia continued as Valkyrie kissed firmly up her long neck. “One day soon, I’d like to take my time with you and explore your entire body.”

“Yes,” Valkyrie replied.

“But for tonight, I’d like to employ a bit of motorized assistance. I’ll get you off,” Nakia promised with the hint of a moan in her voice, “as many times as you want and then,” she pulled back, looking Valkyrie in her eyes “we can have our well-deserved rest.” 

“Oh yes,” Valkyrie replied. Sex toys were ancient and seemed to exist in similar form and function across the realms. Some people were insistent that they use nothing but the parts they were born with for pleasure, but Valkyrie had no qualms about using the best and most efficient weaponry available, for fighting or fucking.

“You first,” Nakia gave a wicked smile and firmly pushed Valkyrie back onto the bed. She reached into her bag and pulled out a rather small U-shaped toy, shiny and Black, with two short heads, a curious little suction cup on one end and ridges on the other end. “Take off all your clothes and then lay down and wait for me. Don’t touch yourself.”

“Oh yes. Oh yes, please,” Vaklyrie sighed as she hurried to comply with the orders. Thor could fuck like the God that he was, but he was soft as a kitten in bed. There was nothing quite like having a woman lay her out and make her come until she passed out. 

Nakia seemed to finish gathering whatever she needed and crawled on top of Valkyrie, moving with fluid confidence like a tiger claiming its prey. She had also removed all but her underwear at this point, an appealing green panty that contrasted with her deep brown skin. She straddled Valkyrie, sitting right atop her hips and pausing to make sure her weight was well bananced. She pressed another a passionate kiss, letting her tongue push forward against Valkyrie’s with a lovely rhythm that seemed to build and build. Their hips began to move together and the contact was too much and not nearly enough.

Nakia pulled back with a gasp and Valkyrie loved seeing the brightness of her eyes and spread of that gorgeous smile before those eyes shifted their attention further down. She moved her palms over Valkyrie’s naked breasts rolling her wrists ever so slightly so that her palms moved in circles around Valkyrie’s increasingly sensitive nipples. When her nipples had hardened fully, Nakia traced the circle around them with her fingernails, a sensation that had Valkyrie thrusting her hips. Nakia laughed, just a little meanly, and continued varying the sensation, smooth palm to sharp fingernail, circles and then up and down. Finally, she scooted down Valkyrie’s body to take a nipple into her mouth as she ran her other hand up Valkyrie’s breast to trace her lips. Nearly coming undone with desire, Valkyrie sucked a thumb into her mouth and felt pleasure unfurl in her body with Nakia’s moan. Valkyrie couldn't help but notice the pleasing contrast of Nakia's deep brown skin against Valkyrie's own light brown skin.

“Are you ready for more?” Nakia asked, that wicked smile making another appearance.

“Yes! Yes! Please yes!” Valkyrie unashamedly begged. 

Nakia pulled out the toy she’d grabbed from her bag and held it up. Valkyrie supposed that those parts would go inside of her? She wasn’t quite sure, but she was eager to find out.

“Now this little guy,” Nakia pointed to the suction cup, “is going to suck this gorgeous little clitoris.” Nakia tapped gently right at the nape of Valkyrie’s sex and smirked at the responding moan. “While this,” she gestured at the ridged dildo shaped part, “goes inside you. It might feel intense and strange, but I’ve got you,” Nakia said firmly, this time looking sincerely into Valkyrie’s eyes.

“I’m sure I’ve had worse,” replied Valkyrie. “I am quite eager to see how this little trinket works.” 

“You may regret that,” Nakia laughed. Gods, but Valkyrie loved a mean woman with all her heart. Nakia tapped Valkyrie’s hips, arranging her on the bed in a way that left Valkyrie terribly curious about what was coming her way. Finally, she felt the tap of the toy on her body. Probably vibranium? She’d heard much of this famed material and its many uses, putting Wakanda near Asgard in their advanced use of technology. It was quite a joy to find such advanced people on Midgard. Valkyrie was distracted from her musings by the feeling of finally having her clitoris touched. She almost regretted agreeing to the toy at all because she could imagine Nakia licking and sucking her to completion and the mere image was so arousing Valkyrie thought she might faint. 

Nakia pressed a few buttons on and Valkyrie heard the vibrations, but felt genuinely puzzled at the sensation. It was almost as if there was a delay between the feelings in her body and her brain being able to recognize what they meant. She realized that the toy was creating suction directly on her clitoris, which was one of her absolute favorite sensations. Then, far too quickly, she felt overwhelmed as she had the quickest and most intense orgasm she'd had in -- well, a very long time. It was as if she was inside her body and outside of it at the same time, seeing and hearing herself moaning, screaming, and spasming as much as she felt it. She was bucking off the bed and felt briefly and intensely afraid that she would actually levitate, but then she felt the firm pressure of Nakia holding her hips down as she moaned in pleasure that was so intense it verged on painful. Nakia’s eyes were bright and she looked utterly delighted at seeing Valkyrie undone. Looking at her was so goddamn arousing that Valkyrie felt one last spasm pulsate from her clenching cunt up throughout her entire body. Her stomach muscles finally relaxed and her toes uncurled. 

“Fuuuuuck,” Valkyrie breathed deep, coming back to herself and finally noticing that the bed around her was wet. 

“Did I just squirt?” Valkyrie asked, incredulously. She blinked a few times, trying to remember when that had last happened. Now that she noticed, there did seem to be some sort of towel gathering the moisture and saving the already tragic bed beneath them from an untimely death. Nakia was a planner and must have laid this in preparation for this very possibility. 

“Oh yes,” Nakia replied, punctuating each word with a kiss. She was kneeling aside Valkyrie, giving her space to breathe, but running her hands all over Valkyrie’s body everywhere she could reach. “It was gorgeous. You did so well and you looked so beautiful. Take as much time as you need to come down, but I am absolutely going to keep getting you off until you beg me to stop.” Nakia finished the statement with an incongruously adorable kiss to the tip of Valkyrie’s nose.

“Oh, I like you.” Valkyrie laughed with delight, eager to see if she could last longer than 30 seconds this time around.

\--

Several orgasms later they both agreed that they’d earned a rest and Valkyrie felt quite sure that they would have a rematch in the near future. Right as she was falling asleep, Valkyrie thought to ask: “Your king. T’Challa. Is he yours? Are you his?” Valkyrie didn’t much mind either way, but she thought she should know if the Black Panther was going to be challenging her to a duel.

Nakia pulled Valkyrie into a sleepy hug and responded.

“Hmm. A bit. But he knows that he does not own me and that I would not wish to own him.” A second later: “And you? With your king?”

“Ha,” Valkyrie scoffed. “Thor is not my king,” she said with practiced disdain. “But yes, a bit I suppose” she pondered aloud, having not thought much about the question before. “We do enjoy each other’s company from time to time and we also recognize that we do not own one another.” 

“Sleep now,” Nakia insisted and Valkyrie couldn’t help but comply.

**Author's Note:**

> To be clear: Valkyrie has some problematic thoughts about race and racism in this fic. I portrayed her as an outsider and it’s been my experience that outsiders looking in on the American conceptions of race tend to have similar misunderstandings: that White people banding together to create and justify the fiction of race for the sake of having a group to exploit and repress is the same thing as Black people banding together and (re)claiming the label Black to survive that oppression. They’re not equal, but the false equivalence tends to trip people up when they’re not familiar with the history and context or with thinking about power.
> 
> \--
> 
> Also, most women and people with clits do not have orgasms in 30 seconds. Basically the only way that I know of it happening is when you get a new vibrating toy, sometimes the intense and novel sensation just takes you right out. But then one's body tends to adjust and it goes back to whatever your normal time is - anywhere from 10-45 minutes of varying kinds of sexual contact is much more common. No orgasm shaming here, your sexual journey is your own!
> 
> \----


End file.
